The Sevilles: Chapter Two-Green-eyed Blue Grass
by Sketchpad
Summary: Running an errand, Vinny runs into a singer who's in a slump. But helping her out will turn the two into bitter, musical rivals, even if Vinny doesn't know it, yet!
1. Chapter 1

A heavy-set sound engineer named Riggs slumped forward in his chair, scratching his rough beard. The passionless warbles he heard from the isolation booth, up ahead, made him want to beat his face into his mixing board.

With a weary glance into the soundproof window that separated the iso booth from his control room, he spied a self-conscious, middle-aged woman, mentally beating herself up for her lackluster showing. Then, he reached for the room's intercom.

"Wow, Natalie. That was...interesting," he muttered. "You sure you don't want to do another take? I think we've got time for another ten."

The snark snapped the singer from her funk. "You missed your callin' as a comedian, Riggs," she drawled in retort. "I'll be fine. I just...need to find my head, that's all."

"Could you find the one that sings? Computers can only do so much."

She reddened. "I heard that! I'm...just in a slump, that's all. It'll pass!"

"Yeah, like a kidney stone."

"I'd like to see you try and sing from this side of the booth, you glorified DJ!" she defended, marching to the booth's door. "I'm takin' five!"

Hearing the door slam from the intercom's speaker, Riggs sighed, "Years, I hope."

Natalie's mind roiled in frustration like storm clouds while she stomped her way through the halls of the WCEB Celebrity Towers Building, the home of Megabux Records, bee-lining towards that floor's lounge.

That she was slipping was, in her estimation, an understatement. As a country singer of some repute, her fans were more forgiving of her more recent performances, as reflected in her sales, but music critics had made their own opinions about her known. Opinions both mixed and negative.

She could see the lounge door ahead. It was opened partially and she delighted in having a few minutes to luxuriate in a smoke break before returning to the studio when she heard something inside the room. A voice, high-pitched, yet lyrical, singing casually from within.

_You may think I must be crazy and I guess you must be right,_  
_But, I know the way I feel today is out of sight,_  
_I do not trust my senses to remember your name,_  
_Without corrective lenses, things are never twice the same anyway,_  
_And all it really needed was the proper point of view..._

Not wanting to intrude, Natalie stopped by the gap in the door and listened. A Chipmunk's voice, but the only Chipmunk act she knew of was the unironically named boy band, "The Chipmunks." This voice clearly had femininity to it, so she was at a loss as to who she was. A staff worker with hidden potential, or a new acquisition from A&R?

_No one's gonna bring me down, no one's gonna stop me now,_  
_No one's gonna reach me here, no one's gonna know I'm gone..._

By the time the singing ended with a simple hum, Natalie found that she had forgotten the turmoil she was going through, if only for a moment, and quietly applauded from the now widened doorway, in appreciation and gratitude.

The sound startled Vinny, almost making her drop the paper bag she held in her hands while she sat on one of the padded chairs in the small room.

"Oh! I'm sorry I frightened you!" Natalie said from the threshold. "I was on my way here when I heard you singing. That sounded lovely, by the way. You have a nice voice."

"Why thank you!" Vinny said, recovering.

"Name's Natalie Lake. I'm a singer, here. Are you here to use the studios?" the Human asked, leaning against the door frame and easing into the conversation. "If you are then I hope that you don't get Riggs as your engineer. Man thinks he too funny by half."

"Actually, I'm waiting for David Seville."

Natalie perked in recognition. "Oh, Dave! I know him. Is he workin' on your songs?"

"Oh, no. I'm just here to give him his lunch."

"You a gofer?"

"No, a Chipmunk," she corrected, simply.

"Oh! Hi, Nat," a male voice greeted from behind her. "Taking a break?"

Natalie stepped aside, allowing Dave to pass into the room. "Hey, Dave. Just shootin' the breeze with your friend, uh..." She regarded the Chipmunk. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Vinny," she said before hopping out of the chair and walking to Dave.

"You left in such a hurry that you didn't take your lunch with you, mister," she mock-scolded him with a wagging finger.

"Thanks, Vinny," Dave said, sheepishly taking the proffered bag. "Uh, will I have to find someone who likes tree bark casserole to trade with?"

Her only rebuttal for his smart remark was a smirk and a light smack against his thigh.

"Just kidding," Dave chuckled, grabbing the bag and turning for the door. "I have to go. I'll eat it on the run. I'll see you at home."

"Okay, Dave," Vinny said. "Have a nice day."

After watching Dave leave, Vinny smiled at Natalie. "It was nice talking to you."

She gave herself a fastidious pat to knock away some wrinkles from her frilled apron, and then, padded out of the lounge, not noticing the woman following closely behind.

"So, Dave and you are good friends, huh?" Natalie asked, hoping the question didn't sound unseemly.

"Oh, yes. He's a busy man, so I do what I can to help him."

Natalie nodded. "I understand. Anyway, I just wanted to ask what was that song you were singin', earlier?"

""Golden Moments." I used to sing it when I lived in the forest."

"Really?" Natalie asked, having a fleeting wonder of what it would be like to live in such an unfamiliar place. "Listen, I know that you don't know me from Adam's house cat, but I was wonderin' if we could talk some more...about singin'?"

The request stopped Vinny in her tracks and made her look up at Natalie, quizzically. "I suppose."

"Great! Let's step in here," she said, opening the door to a large, nearby iso booth, garnering the momentary attention of a group of resting studio musicians standing by their piano, violins, and drum set at the far end of the room.

"I know it sounds weird," the Human awkwardly confessed. "But, I can't seem to find the magic I used to have when I started singin'. It's a mystery I better solve or I'll lose my job. I guess I'm just lookin' for someone to help get this off my chest."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Vinny sympathized, not knowing how she could alleviate the situation. "Well, I'll help, if I can."

Natalie's face relaxed. "Thank you. So, tell me. What do you do to find inspiration? What makes you wanna sing? When you're in the woods?"

"Well, yes, but also from my family and my days growing up," Vinny explained with a wistful grin, her memories coming to her in waves. "There's an old song I used to hear when I was young about that mean old Mr. Scratch."

Overhearing the conversation, the musicians broke into an introduction, as Vinny recalled the nostalgia of the tune.

Tonight it's hot down here,  
I can almost smell the rain,  
And I can almost taste the fear,  
Behind your name,

Fans turning on the ceiling,  
I feel sticky as a chili dog,  
White boys howling in the evening,  
On that hollow log,

Tall tales down the river,  
Say we aim to bury the truth,  
But, the right hand just delivered,  
The devil in a suit,

And he talks big in Whitewash County,  
Talks sweet as sugar cane,  
Got a past that's filled with lightning,  
Got a future filled with rain,

Bug buzzing in an empty glass,  
Fiddle scratching some lazy tune,  
We're just some place that history passed,  
New dust, new broom,

And it's a high, hot-buttered moon,  
He's got a shiny, new wax face,  
Swears the South's gonna rise again soon,  
All over the place,

Tall tales down the river,  
Say we aim to bury the truth,  
But, the right hand just delivered,  
The devil in a suit,

And he talks big in Whitewash County,  
Talks sweet as sugar cane,  
Got a past that's filled with lightning,  
Got a future filled with rain,

And he talks big in Whitewash County,  
Talks sweet as sugar cane,  
Got a past that's filled with lightning,  
Got a future filled with...

Rain down on Whitewash County

Smell the air coming up the line

Well you've changed your face so often

But, you never change your mind!

By then, Vinny found that she had danced by the piano, an instrument that she knew very well. She hopped up onto the seat next to the pianist and spontaneously took over, banging out a playful, honky-tonk insertion into the already impromptu arrangement.

Ending the song in a flourish, they all, suddenly, heard a rap on the booth's window, alerting everyone to the engineer on the other side, who was holding up a phone receiver and motioning a surprised Vinny into her control room.

"She's here," the engineer said into the phone as Vinny, followed by Natalie, entered the control room with some uncertainty.

"Hello! Hello! Can you hear me?" came a man's voice from the telephone, but since the phone was next to the female engineer, Vinny thought that the voice belonged to her.

"Yes," said Vinny to the engineer. "You have a very deep voice, but I can hear you quite well."

The engineer shook her head and pointed at the telephone. "Not me. Speakerphone."

"Hello, miss!" came the tinny voice. "Sy Heaves, executive producer of Megabux Records. I've heard you singing in the booth, just now, and I have an ear for talent. Normally, A&R would be talking with you, but I believe in striking while the iron's hot! How would you like to be our new country star?"

Vinny was held by sudden indecision. She was musically talented, by years, but she, practically, knew nothing when it came to the music business. That was strictly Dave's and their sons' domain, and not the sort of thing she was expecting to find herself, this morning. "You...want me to sing for you?"

"Not just for me, little lady, but for the whole world!" Sy exclaimed, continuing his pitch. "Our country music division's not selling as much as it used to"

The comment stung Natalie as deep as any stabbing. Obviously, it was bitter code for, "some singers are becoming has-beens and are dragging this company down."

"But, I think you might be the shot of espresso this company needs!" Sy continued. "Whadya say?"

The only one in the room struck more speechless than Vinny was Natalie, watching with high definition clarity, her career fading from sight, like a spirit going to its final reward.

"Wow, Sy! That's a big step to take, you know?" she interjected, spurred by thoughts of unemployment. "Maybe you oughtta give her some time to think it over, huh?"

"Who said that?" Heaves asked, annoyance lacing his voice.

"Uh, me," the woman said, meekly. "Natalie Lake?"

"Oh. Shouldn't you be in the studio, working?" he recalled with a grumble. "Well, why don't you show her the ropes, since you may have some company in your division soon."

_'Competition, you mean,'_ she thought, grimly.

"No problem, Sy. I'll take her under my wing until she's ready," she complied, nervously.

"Good," said Sy, satisfied. "And Vinny, you take care of that voice, all right? You could be a star sooner than you think!" The sound of the phone hanging up on his end, punctuated his heady words.

Perplexed, Vinny looked to Natalie for an answer and found only pensive, thoughtful silence from her. She waited for a confused beat, and then, asked as much to herself, as to the two people near her, "What just happened?"

* * *

The living room softly vibrated from Vinny's quiet playing of the piano, later that afternoon. She had hoped that some light playing would get her mind off of the anxiety she felt, but her mind was still trying to catch up to all of the events from earlier.

Exposure to old records and the musical talents of older members of her community had awakened the love of music in her at a very young age. It became her fun companion, her best mode of expression, and her salve on those lonely days and nights. She never looked on it as a career and rarely thought of the business side of it.

Now, her toes were dipping in unfamiliar waters and she feared the misstep that would drown her in its depths. When Dave and Alvin came by, momentarily, to listen to her play, she barely noticed them.

They did, however, noticed the thoughtful sighs that punctuated her playing.

"What's up, Mom?" Alvin asked, standing by her seat. "You sound like something's on your mind."

"Maybe." She stopped playing, catching herself trying to be unnecessarily evasive, and glanced over to Dave. "Dave, something happened at work, after I gave you your lunch."

He perked up in concern. "Really? What?"

"I was...asked to be a star!" Vinny fretted.

It took Alvin a moment or two to correlate what she said with how she felt, and in the end, the absurdity of it made him laugh out loud.

"Alvin Seville, what is so funny?" his mother asked, not understanding why _he_ didn't understand her plight.

"They heard you sing? That's great, Mom! They want you to be a professional singer, like us! Don't you want that?"

"I...I don't know," she sighed, honestly. "I don't know anything about all of this and I did think about saying no, but the opportunity is so...exciting! Was it like that for you and your brothers?"

Her son took on a cocky air. "Nah! When Rockin' Rod played our demo on the radio, I *knew that we'd be going places, overnight sensations, the sky was the limit, the world was our oyster!"

"And having a good songwriter and manager helped, too, don't you think?" Dave pleasantly asked, deflating his son's ego a bit.

"Oh, yeah," Alvin muttered. "Dave did help out...a little."

Dave turned his attention back to the still skeptical Vinny, sitting beside her. "Vinny, I'm very happy for you. We all are. I know that this is a lot to take in. It certainly was for me when I started out as a songwriter, and my dad didn't think I could make it, at first. But, if you decide that you want to do this, we'll be behind you."

Their support, however, had the opposite effect on her, as she worried that *they may have secretly wanted another celebrity in the family more than she did. "What if I don't want to do it?"

"Then, we'll support that decision, too," Dave said, simply.

"Of course," Alvin added. "If you *were to say, yes, think of all the fame and fortune you'll have! Plus, we're already in the business. You'll have an "in!"

The term confused her. "An...' in?'"

"Oh, yeah!" Alvin pressed. "You thought that the woods were dangerous? It can be pretty cut-throat, out there, Mom, and you'll need every edge you can get."

Dave rolled his eyes at his son's "savvy," but he admitted with a sigh, "I hate to say it, but...Alvin is right on this. There can be bad people, even there. But, the business isn't always that way and will often go out of its way to help the creative community, too."

Although she still looked a bit unconvinced, the idea of such a time-tested support system, both without and within, did help mollify her, somewhat.

"Well, I used to pretend to make the records that I heard as a girl," Vinny mused, wistfully. "And I'm in the big city, now. I really have no reason not to take advantage of every opportunity given to me."

With a cleansing breath, she decided. "All right. I'll take the chance and see what happens."

"All right! I knew you had it in you, Mom!" Alvin cheered. "Music runs through our veins!"

Dave chuckled at their son's display and gave Vinny a supportive hug. "It'll be fine, Vinny. If you need our help with anything, tell us."

She wanted to luxuriate in the familial bonds that enfolded her, but she couldn't help but stiffen, anxiously, under Dave's gesture, wondering what on Earth she was getting herself into.

"Okay," she muttered.

* * *

In the studio's lounge, the next day, Vinny sat opposite a Natalie that studied her with a critical appraiser's eye.

"My head's buzzing like a beehive with all of these questions," Vinny exhaled. "What do I do first? Do I go to Mr. Heaves and just sing in front of him?"

"Nope," Natalie shook her head. "It helps if you can make a demo of your music. It's more professional and he can more easily focus on listening to it to make a determination. He *is a busy man, after all."

"Oh! Of course! Of course!" the Chipmunk, nervously, agreed. "I do want to make a good first impression."

"Of course, you do," Natalie said with slippery condescension. "I have to tell you, though, you'll want to make it as polished as you can. For that, you need a studio," she explained, innocently at first, then she shrugged and gave the false appearance of someone forced to give bad news. "But, booking studio time is _so_ expensive! You might not have the money to get it done."

The answer, "Oh, that's okay. Dave has a wonderful studio at home that I can use," deflated Natalie from the inside.

She continued her duel, suggesting, "Well, you're gonna need, at least, four original songs in your demo. Will you have time to write them all?"

"I know how to read and write music, and I have some ideas," Vinny said, sounding more confident than she had all day. "It shouldn't be too hard."

_'Touche,'_ Natalie thought with annoyance. Then, she perked. "Then, I take it, you've already made up your mind on what you want to do, then?"

"Yes." Vinny trembled, just then. It was just one word, but now, it opened so many doors before her, both good and bad.

Through gritted teeth, Natalie suppressed a frown and pressed on. "Well, in that case," she said, smiling, yet mentally preparing for the challenge to come, the fight for her career from this unassuming, unexpected upstart. "Let's get started."


	2. Chapter 2

It started with an understanding of everyone concerned.

Dave had impressed upon Vinny the importance of a vocal coach, but when he volunteered, his deeper, Human voice was too Herculean a task for her to mimic, so he was out.

Her sons were the next to try and seemed the better fit, but even though they were Chipmunks, as well, their masculine tones threw her off more often than not.

In looking for a voice teacher that she could connect with the most, Vinny was beginning to feel like Goldilocks, when the solution presented itself in the logical suggestion that The Chipettes could be just right, and so, after a visit next door and a friendly request, The Miller Sisters had Vinny working on her range, her pitch, and vocal and diaphragm control.

Miss Miller, learning what was happening, volunteered to give Vinny lessons in showmanship, which soon devolved into a competition between her and daughter Brittany for best generational example.

When Vinny felt confident enough, the production of the demo was next, and it was here that Dave was both qualified and eager to assist. After songs and lyrics were hastily written from memory, Vinny would sit in the home studio of the den before a microphone and sing.

Nervously, at first, but with Dave's efforts, she relaxed into better and better performances that he could work with at his computer. Before long, a decent CD's worth of honest effort was recorded and readied for presentation.

* * *

During a visit to the Seville residence, Natalie was led by Vinny to the living room, and asked, as they settled in, "What's it like to be a celebrity?"

As innocent a question as it was, Natalie couldn't help but think of seeing an opportunity to wage direct psychological war upon her.

"I'm glad you asked," she said. "Take it from me. The life of a star is grand. It's glamorous. When you know that hundreds of thousands of fans live to hear your songs, it's like Heaven on Earth. I was a young woman when I first started. I may have worked in a department store, but I had so much that I wanted to sing about. The moment an A&R rep heard me and I earned my contract, I was on Cloud Nine. I was the queen of the world."

A wistful smile and the thought of better days soften the lines on her face. With the roar of the crowd, the world was opened before her, hungry for her innovation and talent. She was an artist in the truest sense of the word.

She would have used all of this to punctuate and sell the pitch to Vinny, drawing her further into the trap, but her own recollections were producing a bittersweet pang of true nostalgia, striking within her a deep, unwelcomed chord.

She steeled herself against it, soon after. Vinny might not have known it, but she was the enemy, immediate and dire, and she needed to strike her down as swiftly as she could.

An eager look from Vinny and Natalie saw her opening and spoke true. "But then, there are tough times. The studio work can be grueling, and with the paparazzi, you'll barely have any privacy. Then, there's being on the road. I can tell that you love your family, but you won't be seeing them while you're off on some tour, somewhere."

Vinny's eyes began to sober and look more crestfallen, and the slightest smirk hiked up along the sides of Natalie's lips.

"How long would I have to be on the road?" Vinny asked, pensively.

Natalie assumed a mockingly thoughtful pose and projected, "Oh, months, maybe _years!_ But, that's okay! You'll be famous, right?"

The sacrifice of spending less time with her sons and Dave did not make Vinny sanguine. But, she began to put so much work into seizing such an opportunity, that in fairness, she had to see it through. Indeed, her family and friends had put in their time and experience into helping her, and quitting would only paint a picture of being unappreciative.

"Right," the Chipmunk agreed with quiet reluctance. Then, she remembered why she summoned Natalie in the first place. Reaching over to the living room table, she picked up a labeled CD jewel case and the handed it to her guest. "Oh, here's the demo. I'd bring it to Mr. Heaves, myself, but I have to go shopping soon."

"It's no problem, Vinny," Natalie assured her. The very key to destroying the Chipmunk's chances had just been hand-delivered to her, and she found herself looking at the CD with the same intensity that a wolf gave a lamb. "I'll give it to Sy, personally, so he can hear it right away. I'm sure he'll like what he hears."

"I hope so," Vinny sighed as she escorted Natalie to the front door.

On her way to her car, Natalie glanced back at Vinny. "Good luck, dear!"

"Thank you!" Vinny replied, watching Natalie leave and drive up the street.

* * *

The proprietor looked up from his magazine, watching the brunette walk into his neighborhood party story. The woman looked around the establishment from the doorway as if it was her first time coming to such a place, which spurred the store owner to straightened his posture and look approachable to this possible customer.

The attention worked because Natalie sauntered up to the front counter and asked the man with a grin that hid the menace within, "Where do you keep your helium balloons, darlin'?"

* * *

It wasn't uncommon for the record producer to be, occasionally, moved by an up-and-comer's performance. That was one of the happy surprises that came with Sy Heaves' job.

Hearing what amounted to the last violent moments of a female Chipmunk, set to music, was something else.

Natalie watched with concealed glee from her chair in front of his desk, as Sy squirmed in his with silent and pained dismay.

Every squeaky, flat note and atonal hum came from his high-definition, multi-tray CD player with horrible, horrible clarity, and he cursed the fact that his office's sound system was so well-tuned.

Snatching up the remote to his entertainment system, Sy crushed the off button under his thumb, ending the assault.

"Ugh, my _ears!_" he moaned. "What in the world was that? I heard Vinny the other day. She sounded great! Now, she sounds like Exhibit A in a crime scene! As a producer, I can't unleash that noise on the world."

"So, no contract, then?" Natalie asked, knowing the answer.

"No contract, I'm sorry to say."

Natalie shrugged with false sympathy. "I told her that she needed more time to polish up her act, but she said that she was fine enough to send you what she had. Shame, though. I thought she had potential, too, but I guess it was just too much for her."

Sy sat back in thought at that. "Hmm, maybe I was to blame," he mused. "Maybe I pushed this on her too fast."

"Don't blame yourself, Sy," Natalie said, shaking her head. "You know, yourself, that not everyone has what it takes. At least you gave her a shot."

The producer sighed. "Yeah, I know. Look, could you do me a favor and break the bad news to her, gently. She seems like a nice lady and I don't want her to give up because of this."

Natalie stood from her seat and nodded. "Sure thing. I have to catch up with her today, anyway."

"Thanks," he muttered. "In the meantime, I have to call in a hazmat team to get rid of that demo, and then, an exorcist to clean my CD player."

* * *

The ringing of the kitchen telephone prompted Vinny to stop in the middle of making a blueberry cake for tonight's desert to answer it.

"Hello? Oh! Hello, Natalie!" she squeaked, awkwardly holding the receiver between one shoulder and cheek while she continued stirring the batter. "Did Mr. Heaves get a chance to listen to my demo? He did? What did he say?"

The following response hollowed her out like acid. "Did he really use...that kind of language? I...see..."

From the other end of the conversation, Natalie delighted in embellishing the news to devastating effect, outside of Sy's office.

"I have to go," she said, quickly. With a triumphantly snapping close of her cell phone, Natalie stuck her head into the producer's office.

"I just finished telling Vinny the news," she reported.

"How did she take it?" Sy asked.

Natalie replayed the last seconds of her talk with Vinny, in her mind; heard the shake in her voice, the sigh of sweet defeat in her ear, and imagined the Chipmunk's utter dismay when she abruptly hung up on her. She would savor it like a fine port.

"I think she took it well," she lied.

Vinny stood still, numbly staring out into space and finding no comfort from the eighteen-wheeler that came out of nowhere and turned her into emotional roadkill.

She almost blamed herself for raising her hopes so high, only to fall so greatly. And how could she face everyone who put their faith in her? She had failed them, as well.

The phone was still on her shoulder, its incessant tone of an ended call sounding so far away from her, now, and as if all of her senses were dulled from the shock, she couldn't even feel the batter dripping onto the toes of one of her feet from the slackly held bowl.

* * *

"I felt so stupid, Alvin," a haggard Vinny related to her son from the kitchen table when he came in for a snack, after school. "I was standing in a puddle of cake batter and didn't listen to my instincts. Mistakes like that would have gotten me killed in the woods."

"Don't let it get you down, Mom," Alvin soothed between a bite of his apple. "Besides, you're not in the woods anymore."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I failed. You all believed in me and helped me, and I let you all down."

"No, you didn't, Mom. Look, can I tell you a secret? A while ago, the record company sent me to a therapist, a doctor of the mind," he explained, sitting next to her at the table. "And I found out that the reason I always pushed myself to succeed in a lot of what I did was because I was afraid."

Concern focused her attention to him. "Afraid? Of what, son?"

His head dipped in the recollection of the hard truth of that day. "Of failure. Of messing up so badly that not only would I suffer for it, but everyone who associated with me. I thought that they looked up to me, and I could drag them down with me if I ever failed. It would be my fault."

Vinny could hear the old pain in his words, but the best she could do was to be there for him and comfort him through an explanation. "But, Alvin. Your family and friends, if they were *good friends, wouldn't have cared if you succeeded or not. What you thought was silly. If we supported you, it was because we love you and we don't expect perfection from you. That would be unfair."

"That's what I realized, in the end," Alvin told her, and then, he smirked. "But, is it any sillier than what you told me about you failing us?"

The truth cleared the defeatist fog from her mind almost immediately. She shook her head at how easy it was for him to turn it around on her.

"I _was_ acting silly, now, wasn't I?" she asked, sheepishly. Impressed at her son's sagacity, she asked, "Alvin Seville, when did you get so wise?"

He shrugged, cockily. "What can I say? I live an experienced life." He then gave his mother a supportive hug. " Besides, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?"

"No. It doesn't," Vinny said, hugging him back. "Thanks, Little Acorn."

"You're welcome, Mama Tree."

"What I don't understand is why my demo sounded so bad to Mr. Heaves," Vinny pondered aloud.

"That_ is_ strange. We all heard your demo. Dave's not an engineer, but he's no slouch, either. It should have been a knock-out when you gave it to Sy."

"But, I didn't give it to him," she said. "I gave it to Natalie before I went shopping for the day. She gave it to him."

Alvin mused on that. "Really? It's just too big a co-winky-dink, but I think that Natalie might have stabbed you in the back with your own CD, which sounds a lot more painful than it is."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I always read the music trades, so I can keep a leg up on the competition. Natalie Lake was Megabux's top country act, but her last two albums barely cracked the Top 40."

Vinny's look of confusion was plain. "What does all of that mean, dear?"

"It means that she not on top anymore"

"Well, I do recall Mr. Heaves talking about the country's division being low, or some such thing. But, Natalie's a friend. She's been helping me and giving me advice. Why would she want to hurt me?"

"Because she sings country, and if you were going to be the next big country star, then you're competition." her son stated, simply. "I'll bet my cap that she might've done something to your demo so she can keep her job at Megabux by making sure you don't get one."

The thought of such a charge weighed heavily on Vinny's heart and mind. The timing of everything that happened after she gave Natalie the CD was now, suddenly, too suspect. If this was all true, then her naivete and visions of stardom had blinded her to it.

If Natalie was a predator, then Vinny might have fallen this day, but in retrospect, she was thankful that she _wasn't_ living in the woods, again, although it seemed to be another hard lesson of the big city.

"Cut-throat," she commented to herself.

"Sorry to say." Alvin commiserated. Then, an idea came along and perked him up. "But, it might not be too late."

"What do you mean? Mr. Heaves made his decision."

Alvin gave a mischievous grin. "Maybe, but I've got a plan."

* * *

Riggs looked quizzically into the iso booth while he prepared to continue the next afternoon's recording session. Within the booth, Natalie sat on her stool, radiating a sense of smug satisfaction and contentment while she held her lyric sheet.

It was puzzling to see her so ready to tackle her songs, especially due to recent events. Yet, she faced the soundproof window and the microphone that stood between the two of them with a determination the surly engineer hadn't seen from her in months.

"Well, look at you!" Riggs said into the intercom. "Fewer takes and now you ready for the next track? What happened? Did you win a bet or something?"

"Something like that," Natalie admitted coyly. Nothing could get her down, today. Not Riggs' snarky mouth, not her own insecurities, and definitely not a certain Chipmunk that she decided not to name, as she was something that needn't be brought up anymore.

She glanced at the clock hanging on the sound-insulating wall. It became a ritual, of sorts, this day because she had been fearing that Vinny might come back for some reason, but the whole morning came and went without the Chipmunk gracing her presence.

"Are you ready?" Riggs asked, his experienced hands hovering over his mixing board.

"I'm ready," said Natalie.

"Okay." Riggs was about to slip on his headphones and turn on the "On-Air" sign when Natalie made a sign to stop. Riggs complied, wondering what the delay was, while the woman hopped off the stool and walked to the booth's door.

She froze when she saw Vinny standing in the threshold, looking up at her with an openly friendly smile on her face.

The sudden fear that she was caught flashed through her guilty mind, but if she wasn't caught, then she wouldn't give Vinny the satisfaction of letting her know this, by controlling her visage into a pleasantly surprised poker face.

"Vinny!" Natalie exclaimed, fighting to keep her voice in check. "Long time no see! What brings you here?"

"Oh, nothing important," Vinny said.

"O-Okay. You kinda caught me in the middle of work, but when I'm done, we'll catch up."

"Oh! But, Natalie, why wait?" Vinny perked. "In fact, I'm in the mood for a little sing-a-long, myself. I'm sure that your engineer wouldn't mind taking a break for a while."

At the mention of the engineer, Natalie gave a nervous glance towards the control room for help, but Riggs was not to be seen.

As she wondered why Riggs would just leave in the middle of a recording session, Vinny walked past Natalie's legs and climbed up onto a nearby stool, after she worked an adjacent microphone down to a level she could sing comfortably into.

"What are you doing?" asked the Human, stepping back into the booth. "I have work to do."

"Not right now, you don't. No engineer," Vinny pointed out. "It's just you and me."

Natalie hitched up a questioning eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I want to have a private singing contest, just the two of us. A little friendly competition, that's all."

"Does this have anything to with Sy not giving you that contract, yesterday?" Natalie probed.

"Maybe, but what's it going to hurt to sing one little song?" Vinny cajoled. "It can even be the first song you sang professionally."

Anxiety and suspicion played across the woman's face, but if they were alone, then Vinny's request didn't seem too alarming.

Natalie nodded. "Okay, Vinny, I'm game. But, Riggs didn't cue up that song, so I guess-"

From the speakers of the iso booth's intercom came the twangy intro of a steel guitar, surprising her, since she still didn't see anybody in the control room.

A suspicious glance to Vinny saw her on the stool, rocking in time to the music.

She caught Natalie's look, and bowed graciously, saying, "You first."


	3. Chapter 3

With her mind recalling the lyrics to that old song, she took a cleansing breath and began.

(Natalie)  
Seven weeks have passed now since he left me

And he shows his face to ask me how I am.  
She says the kids are fine and that they miss me,  
Maybe I could come and babysit sometime.

He says "Are you ok? I was worried about you,  
Can you forgive me? I hope that you'll be happy."  
I said "I'm so happy that I can't stop crying,  
I'm so happy, I'm laughing through my tears."

I saw a friend of mine. She said "I was worried about you,  
I heard he had another girl. I wondered how you felt about it."  
I'm so happy that I can't stop crying,  
I'm so happy I'm laughing through my tears.

Saw my lawyer, Mr. Good News

He got me joint custody and legal separation.  
I'm so happy that I can't stop crying,  
I'm laughing through my tears, I'm laughing through my tears.

(Vinny)  
I took a walk alone last night, I looked up at the stars,  
To try and find an answer in my life.  
I chose a star for me, I chose a star for him,  
I chose three stars for my kids, and one star as his wife.  
Something made me smile, something seemed to ease the pain,  
Something 'bout the universe and how it's all connected.

The park is full of Sunday mothers and melted ice cream.  
We try to do the best within the given time.  
A kid should be with his mother, everybody knows that,  
What can a mother do but babysit sometimes?

I saw that friend of mine, he said: "You look different somehow."  
I said, "Everybody's got to leave the darkness sometimes."  
I said, "I'm so happy that I can't stop crying,  
I'm laughing through my tears, I'm laughing through my tears."

"I'm so happy that I can't stop crying,  
I'm laughing through my tears, I'm laughing through my tears."

"All right, Vinny! What's this all about?" Natalie asked, her suspicions rising again. She was nice enough to let this farce play out, but now, she was beginning to smell a trap.

Before Vinny could answer, there came a knock on the booth's door. It opened with the large frame of a scowling Sy Heaves filling the threshold.

"Sy!"

"Oh, hello, Mr. Heaves!"

"Don't "hello" me, the both of you!" he huffed. "I want to know who's the one that's tying up my telephone with all of that singing."

"Uh, that would be me, sir," Vinny confessed, slipping a cell phone out of a pocket on her apron, dialed to his office's extension.

His annoyance was set aside, for a moment, when he realized that he had been talking to a Chipmunk. A Chipmunk who just sang. "Wait! Are you Vinny?"

"Yes, sir!" Vinny said, grateful for the recognition. "I had Natalie give you my demo the other day."

He made a slight face of disgust, grimly reliving the audio nightmare. "Yes...I know. But, I don't understand. How come you sound so good now, and the other day, you sounded like Death warmed over?"

"Because we suspect that Natalie may have given you a bogus disk, Sy," Alvin explained, coming from the control room, next door.

"That was you in the control room?" Natalie gasped. "Then, where's Riggs?"

"Probably in the break room. I called him yesterday and asked him to help me set up this little audition with an instrumental version of your song," he answered with a shrug. Then, he turned to Heaves. "Well, Sy, what do you think? Do you think my mom deserves another shot?"

The man glanced at Alvin's mother, weighing what he knew, now. "Hmm...Well, it's obvious that you can sing. I just heard you, live, and anyone willing to be that unorthodox shows me that you really want that contract, Miss Vinny. It's yours if you want it."

Although Natalie's eyes widened in shocked failure, her mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. It didn't matter if Vinny worked hard at it, it didn't matter if she, actually, was at fault. Her long career was being razed to the ground and she could do nothing about it but watch.

"What? That's not...I-I don't...believe this!" she sputtered at Vinny in loud, hot indignation. "I'm gonna lose my job because of _you?_ Do you know how many balloons I had to suck down to get you to quit?"

Logic forced her to shut up, but it was too late. The shocked silence around Natalie, somehow, felt louder than her emotional gaffe.

Vinny broke that silence first. "Then it was true, Natalie? I thought you wanted to help me? Why did you do all of this?"

"I told you when we first met, Vinny," the woman confessed in quiet shame. "I couldn't find the spark that I once had, and when Sy wanted to sign you up, I knew it wouldn't be long before I was thrown out on my ear. I was scared. I'm sorry."

"I don't want the contract, anymore," Vinny said, evenly.

Now _Alvin_ was shocked, alongside Sy. "What? Mom, what are you saying? Wait, is this a woodland thing, or something?_ You won!_"

Vinny nodded. "Yes, I did win, Alvin. That's why I won't take the contract."

"_I'll...I'll never understand you!_" Alvin sobbed in confusion.

"Well, here's something that's easy to understand," Sy said, turning his full, glowering attention back to Natalie. "Because you wasted my time with that stunt and tricked me, plus cost me a brand new act, _you're fired!_"

"Wait, Mr. Heaves," Vinny interjected. "Don't fire, Natalie. She didn't mean the things she did. She was just afraid. She worked hard for this company and she just wanted to find that reason to sing, like she had all of those years ago."

"Standing up for her is commendable, Miss Vinny," he told her. "But, guaranteed money should have been all the reason she needed to sing."

"But, think about it. You heard her sing, just now," Vinny continued. "She still has talent, and your company still needs someone with her years of experience, don't you?"

Sy's response was a skeptical grunt.

She pressed her argument."All she needs is to find her inspiration to sing well, again. Maybe a vacation in the country could do the trick."

Sy's grunt changed into a thoughtful growl. Progress was being made. "Does Megabux have to pay for this _magical_ vacation?"

"I can pay for it, myself, Sy," Natalie answered, quickly. "I just need some time to myself. If you do this, I'll come back a changed woman. I swear."

Rolling his eyes Heavenward, Sy sighed, reluctantly. "All right, all right. You can have your vacation. The company can get by without you for a few months."

A gleam of life and joy flashed in Natalie's grateful eyes as she gave Sy a crushing, tearful bear hug.

While he stood preening his wrinkled suit and recovering from the love attack, she knelt down and gave Vinny a more sedate, but no less sincere hug.

"Oh, thank you, Vinny! Thank you! I know that I was wrong and nothing I can say could make up for that, but I want to dedicate my next song to you."

Vinny gave her a gracious, honest smile. "Thank you, Natalie."

She then turned to the flustered man, saying, "And thank you, Mr. Heaves, for giving me the opportunity to become a star." Then she called for her son. "Come along, Alvin. We're going home."

Joining her in the hall, Alvin asked her, slyly, "Vinny, when did you become so savvy?"

She smiled. "I guess the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?"

"Nope."

Vinny was then stopped by a guilty Natalie, who called out to her. "Wait. Before you leave, tell me why you didn't want the contract. You won it, fair and square."

Vinny fixed her with an honest gaze. "Ever since I lost the first time, I wanted the chance to prove to Sy and myself, that I was still a great singer in my own eyes, whether I won the contract or not. But just as importantly, I saw how worrying about being replaced changed you, and I spent far too much time away from my family to just leave them again for tours, or any other reason. I'd rather be happy just singing for fun, anyway. Maybe that's the inspiration that you should be looking for, Natalie."

Vinny then left Natalie to stand by the doorway with a thoughtful mixture of regret and illumination. She was, also, loathed to admit that there was something in the Chipmunk's voice that was colored with the slightest tint of disappointment.

"Ain't Mom cool?" Alvin asked the woman, proudly, before he jogged to catch up to Vinny as she walked towards the elevators.

"Sorry you had to go through all of that," he apologized, regretting how ruthless his line of work could be. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to do that again."

Vinny reached up and pressed the down button, and then, mused with a slight smile. "Well, I never said I wouldn't do it again, someday, Alvin. Maybe I _will _see my name in lights, by then."

The doors parted for them. "We'll be there when that happens, Mom."

"Thank you, son."

Down the hall, Natalie Lake knew that she was safe. She had been given a second chance, a chance, in bittersweet retrospect, she didn't deserve and was given to by a good friend.

And the more she thought on it, as the elevator carried that family away, the more she realized that she may have lost that good friend in the process.

***To Be Continued***

Song Credits: "Golden Moments" by James Taylor

c) 1976 Warner Bros. Records

"Whitewash County" by Elton John

c)1992 MCA Records

"I'm So Happy That I Can't Stop Crying" by Sting

c) 1996 Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC


End file.
